


S is for Sherrinford

by Iwantthatcoat



Series: Air Eurus...The Wee Rocky Outpost In The Middle of Nowhere Airline! [2]
Category: Cabin Pressure, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: A bit darker than last time but everyone is ok, Cabinlock, Gen, Humor, Sherlock/Cabin Pressure crossover, humor with a side of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-06-10
Packaged: 2018-11-03 09:05:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10964073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iwantthatcoat/pseuds/Iwantthatcoat
Summary: For some reason, Carolyn has decided to be Eurus Holmes's own personal airdot yet again. This time Eurus has quite a bit to do in London... and at Musgrave. And she needs new colored contact lenses. They are notiriously difficult to get on Amazon. The colour needs to be exactly right, after all...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All later chapters will be in a more traditional format ( by which I mean there will be background description, dialogue tags, etc... and it will read like a normal fic.) I was just sort of playing with the radio format a bit. ;)
> 
> Please note this is Part Two of the series. Part One is E is for Eurus. Based on this Tumblr post we were sort of collecting headcanons on: https://notagarroter.tumblr.com/post/156465948260/if-eurus-had-trapped-the-cabin-pressure-crew-in
> 
> * Also: apologies to the good people of Ireland (and chunks of the USA) for the belittling of the Great Potato Famine, and to the good people of Cornwall... who , of course, make the best Cornish pasties... oh my God I want one right now.

M:

"I can't believe you accepted another booking from her-- after she _locked us in a cell_ last time."

C:

"Well, that's all resolved now, isn't it, Martin? I mean, we flew her to see her psychologist in London. I'm sure it did her a world of good. I bet she just doesn't trust new people."

M:

"She _did_ choose to go back to the island again. So they must be treating her well in that...whatever it is. Prison? Asylum?"

A:

"Prisylum?"

M:

"There is no such word as 'prisylum', Arthur."

A:

"Well, there should be. When we were playing that game... you know, the one with the tiles on the wooden tile-thingy-- "

M:

"Scrabble? You. Were playing Scrabble?"

A:

"Douglas was teaching me. Anyway, when we were playing Scrabble, Douglas said there were new words being invented all the time." 

D:

"I'll have you know I did _not_ cheat at Scrabble. It would have been completely unsportsmanlike."

M:

"Well, I should hope not!" 

D:

"As well as completely unnecessary. And I even provided Arthur with a dictionary to level the playing field... and gave him credit for a surprising amount of rather interesting portmanteaus. That's when we discussed the addition of new words into the lexicon." 

A:

"Like 'throbby', which I have personally been using for quite a long time. Even before it was a word, it turns out. And 'face-palm'. 'Face' was there. And 'palm' was there. And now, 'face-palm' is there!"

D:

"A happy reunion." 

A:

"That's a nice way to think of it, isn't it, Douglas? And 'prisylum' is really quite a useful word, I think. In this case. Though maybe there aren't enough of them for it to really catch on." 

C:

"Yes, well, dear child, that, in this instance, is a very good thing. I wonder where she'll want to go this time?" 

D:

"She didn't say?" 

C:

"No. Just, some errands. I assume that means Gatwick again."

D:

"Who knows? Maybe she wants to go to Paris. Get a decent meal. A new outfit, perhaps?"

A:

"Then they'd know she was gone, Douglas. If she had new clothes. 

D:

"They already know that. And besides, I meant to wear when she's doing... whatever she's doing in London. She doesn't wander around High Street in a white cotton gown. But I can't imagine they are treating her all that well here. I mean, even if she has the guards on her side, which she most certainly does, I'm sure the food isn't good, for example."

A:

"I wonder where she goes?" 

M:

"I don't know, Arthur, where _do_ crazy people go?" 

D:

"Oh, I wouldn't say that... calling her crazy..." 

M:

"No? Well you wouldn't now, would you. Probably want to get her on your good side. Help with a few schemes of yours, now?" 

D:

" _Martin_. I have no need of anyone's help with any _schemes_."

M:

"Which is very different from not having any schemes with which to not need help wi-- which is very different than... needing help and not having schemes in which -- You have schemes! You always have schemes!"

D:

I'm just saying she is clearly in possession of a first-rate mind, that's all. You can't break out of these places easily." 

A:

"I heard she mind-controls the guards!" 

C:

"Does she now? Now that could come in handy. Mind control." 

D:

"Carolyn. No." 

C:

"No what, Douglas?" 

D:

"No to whatever it is you are thinking you would use her supposed powers for. Just. No."

C:

"Well _I'm_ just saying it would be convenient. To not have people arguing with you about schedules and such."

D:

"Speaking of schedules and such...where did Martin go off to?"

C:

"Doing the walk-round I should expect. Why?"

D:

"Who is doing that run to Amsterdam next week?"

C:

"You are."

D:

"I see. You know, what she does isn't exactly mind control. It's more like convincing you that what you want to do and what she wants to do seem to... happily coincide. It's what every employer strives for."

A:

"Wow! Is that why we are flying her to London? Or Paris? Because we are mind-controlled?"

C:

"No, we are flying her to London because we are getting _paid_ to do it."

A:

"Oh."

C:

"The only one of us who would fly _without_ being paid is Martin."

M:

"Uh...hello, yes?"

C:

"Nevermind. Everything ship-shape?"

M:

"Yes. Waiting on a flight plan."

A:

"Mum was just saying you are the only one of us who would fly for free."

M:

"Oh. Well. I suppose I--"

D:

"Well, perhaps not the _only_ one."

A:

"Hey, I suppose I always fly for free. And mum pays herself so that's a lot like flying for free."

D:

"And even _I_ might chose to make a trip for free every now and again. It's all about the love, isn't it?"

M:

"Yes. Yes it is! It's not like some... job... someone does just for the money. I _love flying_. And I'd fly every day of my life if I could!"

D:

"Exactly. It's the principle of the thing. And of course, you might want a day off every now and then, but...if you had your druthers, you'd be flying all the time because there's nothing like it in the world. Even the most mundane of transport flights is thrilling. Why, take this one I'm doing to Amsterdam next week. Clear skies. Straight flight path. No pesky mountains in the way. To some, that might be boring, but to a _skilled_ pilot, no flight could _ever_ be boring. It simply becomes a test in efficiency. At what speed should I fly to maximise fuel conservation during ideal flying conditions?"

M:

"Well, I could work that out for you, if we...."

D:

" _No,_ don't spoil the _fun!_ "

M:

"But I am, frankly, the better one at calculations, Douglas. Now, what are you carrying?"

D:

"You seem quite keen to do this."

M:

"Well, you are right, it would be a fascinating test of skill to determine the most efficient flight path. Assuming no unexpected adverse weather conditions there would be little to no altitude change or reroutes, and one could calculate a simple, diagonal--"

D:

"Martin. Do _you_ want to take the flight?"

M:

"Well...it would be fun to do the....ummm...if you don't mind?"

D:

"Of _course_ I don't mind. I'll just switch with you on the next solo run."

M:

"Yes! Yes that'd be fine!"

C:

"Hmmm."

D:

"Yes?"

C:

"Oh, nothing. I'll just...make a note of the amended schedule."

A:

"Do you think, maybe, _I_ should bring her some food?"

D:

"Good god, Arthur, no!"

M:

"No, Arthur, I'm sure whatever they are giving her is just fine. After all, if she is truly mind-controlling them she could get whatever she wanted..... Just...oh, I don't know, make the other prisoners think that it's a culinary training program or something?"

A:

"Skip, that's a great idea!"

M:

"...Thank you?"

A:

"You're welcome! So, are we just headed to that island place, or do we wait here for instructions?

C:

"We will go there first... and wait on the thing that very nearly resembles an airstrip."


	2. Chapter 2

"So, are we going to Paris?" Arthur looked around the stark waiting area, the walls coated with dripping-wet red paint and a decorative rifle mounted just off the ceiling.

Eurus stared at Arthur in complete disbelief. Not for the first time. 

"No."

"Oh. Well, there are closer places with tasty food, I suppose. Regional specialties. Like Cornish pasty. Now, were those in Devon... or Cornwall? And Ireland has nice potatoes. Or maybe they just have _a lot_ of potatoes."

"Ireland does not have a lot of potatoes, Arthur."

"Well, not anymore now, do they? That's why they all had to move. But they came back. Well, some of them, anyway."

"The potatoes or the Irish?"

Martin's stomach growled. They had forgone the usual cheese tray in their rush to get to the strange island before the weather turned, and all this talk of food was making him uncomfortable. It took Eurus barely a second to notice. "You should pay him more," she told Carolyn. 

"I do. I pay him twice as much as last year."

Instead of acknowledging the attempt at wit, Eurus turned to Martin. "And yet you stay. Why?" She tilted her head as she contemplated the situation for a moment or two and then said, "Oh!" 

Martin wished she had said more than simply, 'Oh'. _He_ wanted to know why he stayed, too... and it seemed like this mysterious woman in white would be able to provide him with a reason that actually made sense.

"And yes, they provide whatever meals I ask for, since you were wondering. Can't be fresh though, cooked from frozen, still high quality, picked at its peak and then _held._ Suspended. Forever." Douglas looked petrified-- he had never heard a more ominous description of frozen food-- but it just made Martin all the more ravenous. "If you are hungry, I can have them bring something." She waved a hand, but focused on Martin, who looked as if he was weighing the odds of his being poisoned. Eurus now turned toward Arthur. "Some strawberries?"

"I can't--"

Carolyn jumped in. "He can't imagine eating a _thing_ after that large breakfast we had before flying here. Pancakes, eggs, a rasher, scones with clotted cream. It was heavenly."

"I already know he is allergic to strawberries."

"I didn't tell her, Mum! She must be reading my mind!"

Eurus smiled. Then frowned. "Well? Aren't you the least bit curious how I figured it out? It was so very simple!"

They all looked blankly at her.

"Oh come now, don't you like games, during those long, dull cargo flights. Don't you like a good puzzle?"

It was Douglas who spoke. "Look, uh...."

"E" 

"Look, E. I appreciate a good puzzle, a word game, all excellent ways to pass the time. But looking up our names is easy as pie. They are all on Arthur's website-- where you booked our flight-- so clearly you have internet access, though the real mystery here is how you can get it in the middle of nowhere when I can't even get a decent signal on the Tube. Once you had our names, you could get your hands on Arthur's medical records, or pretty much anything you wanted to know, if you are good enough at breaking through a security system. Which, clearly, you are."

"I didn't _research_ you! That would be cheating."

Carolyn changed the subject. "So, where can we take you this time...E?"

"I watched, and I saw--"

"Gatwick? Heathrow?"

"--And when I was on your aeroplane the last time, it wasn't what I saw, it was what I didn't see. What _wasn't there.._."

"Strawberries! You didn't see any strawberries! So you knew I must be allergic! Brilliant!"

"Not serving strawberries doesn't mean anyone's allergic. It only means we didn't have strawberries that day. She looked it up."

"No! I can show you! We can play together!"

Carolyn smiled in what approached, but didn't quite reach, a kindly manner, before taking a hard left. "Bristol? They have a lovely suspension bridge...? What about Edinburgh?"

" _I'd_ quite like to go to Timbuktu. I've only been to Timbuktu Timbuktu. Which turned out not to be Timbuktu at all. Or Kuala Lumpur. That sounds fascinating. Or we could go back to Helsinki and see a bit more of it....not just the airport this time. Because really, you never know when the.... ouch."

The dart made him wobble a bit, and everyone rushed to his aid before Arthur finally collapsed, mumbling something about the amount of tranqualiser needed to bring down an adult grizzly bear.

They all fell one by one, and Eurus made some notes regarding the placement of various dart-launching devices and dosages. They'd have to be adjusted in order to hit Sherlock in the back of the neck. The Captain... no... First Officer... was the right height, and it hit him in the scalp.

***

When they came to, Eurus had placed them all in the glass cell, yet again.

"Well. Not as if I am surprised. So much for trading the aloeswood."

"You're not still at that again are you? Wait. Why should I bother to ask. Of course you are." Carolyn looked disdainful, yet not the least bit surprised. "Aloeswood?"

"Wood _chips_ , actually. Used to make incense and high-end perfumes. Swapping some raw materials for the finished product."

"Perfume? Why not trade for something more valuable?" It was Eurus. Her face appeared, looming large on a screen bolted on the cell wall. "Poppies? Pornography? Plutonium? People?"

Douglas fell silent.

"Oh, and Arthur. I need your help." The face on the screen smiled.

"My help?"

"Yes. Which do you find more disconcerting? The darkness?" She shut off the lights for a long pause before returning them to their regular level. "Or would it be the opposite?" The beams grew to a blinding intensity. "Or perhaps, you prefer the red?" The cell glowed crimson. 

"Don't answer her, Arthur. She will only keep at it until she finds out which things frighten you the most ; refuse to play her games." Carolyn turned to look out of the cell to where she thought Eurus might actually be, rather than interact with the video screen. "Look. I'm sure it has temporarily slipped your mind, but, we have already been through this part. We are an airline charter firm. We can fly you to wherever it is you wish to go. But we will not help you with your interior decorating advice, nor will we serve as guinea pigs in whatever disturbing experiment you have planned." She stopped and addressed a slightly different section of the room beyond the cell. "If you want to go test a hypothesis, do pick on someone far more your own intellectual size than my crew. Honestly, you are like a child whose parents never taught her any manners. Now if you want to go somewhere, stop this nonsense and let's go. If not, stop calling on us."

Eurus was quiet for a long while.

"They didn't, did they?" Martin said, softly.

"They who?" replied Carolyn. 

"They, her parents. Didn't teach her manners." He addressed the outer room as well. "How long have you been in here? Before you could... just get out, I mean."

"Time is an illusion," came the disembodied voice.

Douglas chimed in, "Yes, and lunchtime doubly so...we know. Minus the pseudo philosophy, how old were you when you were incarcerated here."

"I was brought here when I was five years old."

"They didn't treat you so well in the beginning, did they?" said Martin. "I mean, eventually you were able to control them though whatever way you do...that...thing... you do...but. Before then, they didn't provide you with much you needed..."

"What does anyone _need_? Anything past the essential requirements is a distraction. I was eventually able to  
have a few things when I provided something _they_ needed. A chessboard, a violin, a book."

"Visitors?"

"I always have people watching me."

"That's not visitors," said Arthur. "Visitors visit. Watchers watch....I mean, guarders guard. Not visit."

"I'm expecting some soon. Special visitors. I want to have some special things for them when they come here. I need to go to London to ride a bus, build a house, fill a well and make a special bowl. I need some more red paint, and...and, photographs. So much to do...so little time. All for my brothers' special gifts."

"They're going to _hate_ them, aren't they?"

Eurus stared at Carolyn for a moment, then smiled. "Ah, you have a sister."

"Unfortunately, yes."

"And you...you have a sister _and_ a brother."

"True"

"And you both hate them all."

"Well I wouldn't say _hate_ , exactly, no"

"Well, I _would_ say hate...exactly...yes."

"I'm afraid I don't have any siblings-- hate or no."

"I don't either!"

"There is a riddle, a puzzle, where you need to escape, and your captors are made up of one guard who always tells the truth and the other who always lies. I have two brothers. They are my captors here. One always tells everyone the truth, whether they want to hear it or not-- except to himself, he doesn't tell himself the truth-- but I can fix that. And the other one...the other one always lies-- he keeps the truth to himself and lies to everybody else-- and I can fix that, too." She looked at Douglas. "You know what to do to solve it."

Douglas nodded. He didn't want to speak and risk interrupting what she would say next. It seemed vitally important to get all the information he could at this stage. This was when the villain gave the monologue. 

"You know that in order to get any real answers, it always involves playing them against each other."

Silence filled the room.

"I don't like lying. I _do_ like not telling the truth, though. Some people think they are the same, but they aren't at all. You have questions. Ask me and I promise I won't lie, but I wont tell the truth either, because I'm not like either of my brothers. You can each ask me one question. A little game."

"Are you going to kill them?" Martin blurted out. He wasn't sure why he was asking the crazy woman in the prisylum if she was going to kill some people. Surely it wasn't a good plan. And if she was going to kill some people, the people he should be most concerned about her killing or not killing should have been them, not her lying and not lying brothers. 

"I won't kill them."

"Are you going to hurt _us_?"

"No."

"Are you going to render us painlessly unconscious for an extended period of time?"

"....No. Not again."

"Can I help?"

Eurus blinked. "Help?"

"Only you just said you had a lot of things to do to surprise your brothers. And you aren't going to kill them, you are just going to make them tell the truth. And I'm quite good at helping. I went to this place once, called "You Can Paint!" , and you know what? They were right. I can paint! Well, not a painting, but I made a coffee cup and decorated it. They even had a stamp so it looked like I drew something, even though I hadn't, and it is kind of cheating a bit, but it looked so good! So I can paint a bowl for you. I can ride the bus for you, too. On my way to the painting place."

"I need to ride the bus. I'm... meeting someone who is a regular passenger."

"Judging by that hesitation... it almost sounds like a certain... _special_ someone?" Carolyn's innuendo made Martin cringe.

"We haven't had much of a chance to talk, but one can hope." Eurus smiled.

"You aren't planning on wearing _that,_ are you?" she continued.

"No, no....I have a ....I'll get something, something nice." Eurus looked quite determined.

"Well, I can certainly help you with that."

"And _I'm_ a bit of a relationship expert, if I do say so myself..."

"Douglas, having a large number of relationships does not make one a relationship expert. In fact, some might say it does quite the opposite."

"I'm sorry, Martin, but I think _E_ needs advice from someone who has dated more people than could reasonably be expected to fit into a kayak."

"Yes, well, a... cruise ship... may be bigger, but it isn't....volume isn't...necessarily... any more helpful for establishing a good relationship."

"Oh, I don't need a relationship, it's just for sex."

"Well. Now, that I can't.., ummmm....yes, well-- Douglas would be...better at that." Martin's ears flushed red.

"But before the sex I suppose I do intend to get to know him a bit better, get close enough to see what kind of... person... he might be attracted to, before I try my turn."

"You should just be you, though. Not make yourself into whatever type of person he finds most attractive-- that never works for long." Eurus turned away as Carolyn spoke. "But...you don't really want it to work for long, though, do you?" Carolyn made the decision to refrain from offering additional guidance.

"After that, I have a therapy appointment." 

"Oh good. I'm glad that you are continuing. It can be quite helpful." 

Again, Eurus smiled as if there was a private joke only she understood. "It is. I'm learning many useful things. And after, I need to take drive in the country, to our old summer house--which isn't there anymore, but, they will still recognise the grounds, so it doesn't matter. Perfect spot for a family reunion. I want to build a little house and decorate it with pictures of my brothers and me when we were young. We will play games. It will be so fun!"

"That does sound rather sweet, actually."

"I need to complete some more tasks, but, yes, Arthur, you can help, that would give me time to make everything perfect. Get a dog dish and paint Redbeard on the side– oh, my brother hasn’t seen him in _ages_ – probably doesn’t even think about him at _all_ now, but he’s still there, right on the family property. It will really be terrific when he sees him again.”

"Are you meeting them there?"

"They will come here first. I want to show them how I'm spending my time here. Come see what I've done with the place! I think I'll have the guards remove this glass, wouldn't want them to feel trapped. Plus I have a friend who won't be able to visit us, because he is dead, you see, but he recorded them a very special message. Oh yes, and I need to hang a few things, before we go. I have some very good plans, but I might just have to drop them."


	3. Chapter 3

Once the sole passenger had disembarked and the aeroplane was safely in the hangar, Douglas left the copilot's seat and slowly headed toward the rear of the galley, by the liquor cabinet. It was there that he found Arthur, busying himself with unpacking some fresh fruit. Douglas leaned against the galley counter, picked up an apple, tossed it from hand to hand a bit, and then sighed. He placed it down again. 

"Arthur. Spot check. P." 

"Oh... uh... pretzels! Peanuts! Popcorn! Pistachios! Pancakes!" Douglas felt better with each innocent word-- reminders they didn't live in E's deranged world. 

Carolyn, who had silently followed Douglas all the way from the flight deck, made herself known. "It isn't a food. None of them are food."

"It's a person," said Douglas, softly.

"Pomeo!"

"Ah! Wherefore at thou _, Pomeo_?"

"It _was_ Pomeo?"

"No. And did you know, is a frequent misconception that wherefore means 'where'. It actually means "why". As in 'Good God, why did you say Pomeo?' Keep at it."

Carolyn gave Douglas a quick assessment before heading back to speak to Martin. This time it was Douglas who followed _her_ back, arriving in time to certainly hear the answer, if not the question itself.

"No. No, no, no, absolutely not. No."

"Well, anything you say more than five times--" Douglas chimed in as he entered the cabin. He wasn't so keen on hearing this particular question posed again.

"And just to be clear about my opinion on the subject...no. We took her to London, as arranged. We will return her. Then, we will go home. And, I hope, never, _ever_ , see her again."

"She'll be expecting us to fly her and her guests to Musgrave Hall. And she _did_ mention she'd be giving us a rather large bonus." Martin looked pained. "And Martin...with Mr Birling still a bit miffed about Sardinia--"

"I _told_ you we would never get away with the _crime_ ," he added, half-heartedly.

"-- this might be a nice way to earn a little extra something. Or, in your case, Martin, _something_ "

"MmErrgh I... I... NO!"

"Well. If you are that certain, perhaps I'll just have Douglas handle this trip solo."

Douglas returned to his seat and fiddled with the controls with not so much as glance back at Carolyn. "Or...you _could_ ask Douglas if he is willing to fly the psychopath who implied that he should _smuggle people_ to her Manson family reunion. My answer, is _also_ no. There are good odds the rest of her family is even crazier. And the minimum number of pilots required to fly a plane is...one."

"Fine. Fine, fine, fine."

"And it's another lovely day at Palilalia Air!"

"I will... send her a text message denying her request. Say we have somewhere else to be immediately after we return her to that godforsaken island. I should still have her contact information in-- Oh." Carolyn's mobile hadn't pinged. A message was already there on the screen, waiting to be read. "It looks as if she.... Apparently, she is willing to up her offer, and..."

"And?"

"She insists Martin fly."

"No."

"She says you remind her of someone special and that... that yes, it is blue? _What_?"

Douglas stood next to Carolyn as she handed the phone to Martin. "I'm meant to show this to you."

"A... It's a..."

"Let me see." Douglas took the phone from a stunned Martin "It's an original Revell’s Martin   
P6M SeaMaster. It looks to be in perfect condition, too."

"How could she know I always wanted a Revel's Martin?"

"Well, the time period is right, and it _is_ a sufficiently rare and collectible model plane, and it _is_ your _name_ , after all. It's not as if she...oh."

"Oh?"

Douglas read the incoming text. "A little something for the copilot. An Aurura IRBM Thor Missile Rocket, NIB with Launchpad."

"And your name isn't even Thor. I should hold out too-- maybe I'll get something I would like from when I was a little girl." Carolyn took her mobile back. "Oh. Yes. That will do nicely."

"What did she offer you, Mum?"

"Cash. And a lot of it. So, are we going?"

Both pilots nodded numbly, then Douglas snapped out of it. "Wait. Don't we care at all how she's finding these? Or how someone locked up for years is getting her hands on that much money?"

"Well, maybe she uses her magical powers in the stock market. Maybe she comes from a wealthy and powerful family. Maybe she steals it. Frankly...I don't much care."

"And, you do realise this dog would have to be some thirty-odd years old? It can't be running through the fields of the family estate."

"I'm not an idiot, Douglas. I say we fly her and her guests there, help her with her little projects, note the details as well as the coordinates, and then call the police. Whatever she has planed, it can't be good."

Arthur poked his head through the flight deck door. "Mum, can we go to the painting place now?"

Douglas eyed her with suspicion. 

"Yes, Arthur. And quit looking at me like that, Douglas. Honestly, in this scenario, whose good graces do you most want to remain in?" 

Douglas nodded.

 

**** 

 

"Phone, Mum!"

Carolyn's voice and the sound of sloshing water could just be heard from across the house. "I'm still rinsing Snoopadoop, Arthur! Answer it and take a message! Tell them I will call back later!"

"Hello! Arthur Shappey speaking! Uh... thank you for calling MJN Air!"

There was a moment of silence on the other line, as if the caller was weighing options before even uttering a single word.

"Yes. Arthur Shappey. The steward. Might I speak with Ms Carolyn Knapp-Shappey. The owner."

"Yes, well, the person to whom it is you wish to be speaking to is currently unavailable at this particular point in time and asked of me, by her, to answer, which is, in fact, what I am doing."

There was silence again, followed by a small sigh.

"As a representative of Her Majesty's government, I wish to establish ongoing service with your charter firm for recurrent transportation to and from a classified location, which, while not strictly for government services, is nonetheless deemed vital to the continued safety of the nation. You would be well-rewarded, and each staff member would require a high level security clearance. How many crew members and support staff, in combination, do you have?"

"It's just Mum, Douglas, Martin, and me. But Mum says I'm not actually working for her. I am just a passenger in a hat. Who likes hoovering. And helping serve drinks. Hello?"

"I'm still here."

"Oh. It just... got all quiet. I thought I'd lost you there for a minute."

"You fly with the crew regularly, though."

"Yes."

"Then I presume your aircraft holds less than 19 passengers. And there are no other reserve pilots?"

"Can I have Mum call you back?"

"I am afraid that is not possible. I do not have an incoming number I can provide you with until all security checks are confirmed. Again, are there any other pilots or support crew?"

"...No?"

"We will pay you a generous sum for your willingness to keep us as your permanent priority standby. Is your mother finished with her... other activity... yet?"

"Just a minute." Arthur covered the phone with his hand. The water had stopped. "Mum, I really, really think you should take this call. He has said he would pay us quite a lot of money and --"

"Hello, Carolyn Knapp-Shapey here, CEO of MJN Air."

"I need you to know this is of the highest importance. I am a minor government official, wishing to schedule regular flight service from Fitton Airfield to the following coordinates: 56.6333308 0.666664."

"56... 6333308... point 6666.... why that's--"

"Yes?"

"--Why that's in the middle of nowhere. Are you certain there is a suitable airstrip? Or will we be landing on a very large inflatable raft?"

"I assure you there are adequate facilities for both landing and refueling."

"And how many would we be flying?"

"A party of four consisting of myself, my brother, and our parents. Most likely on a monthly basis. My brother and I have quite busy schedules, however, so a great deal of flexibility will be required. We will compensate you for that flexibility."

"Yes. Well. We do have two other on-call passengers we are committed to serving who--"

"A Mr Goddard, a Mr Alyakhin... as well as a Mr Birling. Yes. Mr Goddard's and Mr Alayakhin's contracts have been bought out. Should you wish to continue providing service to Mr Birling, though our schedules are, as I have said, variable, I do not forsee any situation where our travels might interfere with an annual trip to view the World Cup. We will book on the first of the month for travel which will generally occur within the coming week. How you choose to schedule the rest of the month, after our flight is complete, is entirely at your discretion."

Carolyn swallowed. "Very well then."

"And I have been informed that you order in a special whiskey for Mr Birling. Whether or not you continue to fly this... charming gentleman... to his rugby matches, I request you continue to place this order. I would prefer to have it available to me on this particular flight."

"Yes, of course. Yes."

"Excellent. Then either my brother or I will visit Fitton this week to inspect your facilities, provide payment details, and collect necessary information. The name is Holmes. Good day."

Arthur, who had been doing his level best to hear both ends of the conversation, smiled. "So Douglas can still steal the Talisker! I mean...try to steal the Talisker." Carolyn continued her steady glare. "Fail. Fail to steal the Talisker. Booooo Douglas!" 

"Well, should Douglas succeed, and should Mr Holmes become aware of it, we would already be flying to a prison. Those were the coordinates for E's...residence."

"I don't think she lives there anymore, Mum. She never did call us to bring her back after we flew her and her brothers to that house."

"She..." Carolyn hesitated to tell Arthur she had called the police, was transferred immediately to New Scotland Yard, and they had sent out officers via helicopter to handle the situation. Arthur had probably convinced himself that he had set her on the path of redemption. "Unless someone else brought her back there, Arthur. And now, we are contracting to fly a presumably different 'someone else' over there."

"Maybe it's to visit another 'someone else'? Not E, I mean. Another prisoner... patient... pratient."

"Coincidence? The universe is rarely so lazy. I would venture a guess that her brothers are planning returning visits. Probably to make sure she stays put. One can only hope the Talisker does the same."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think, perhaps one more.  
> Oh, and P is Papa.


End file.
